Contingency Plan
by DoYouMindIfISlytherin
Summary: Of course the Dark Lord knew he was going to die that day. Of course he had a plan. and of course this plan would cause the most possible damage to one Harry James Potter.


s(_I've been very preoccupied lately, and the creative juices for my other stories just aren't flowing. I'm really sorry about that, I haven't a clue what's going on. But this little snippit came to me not long ago, and the idea intrigued me. So yes, I am writing another god damn story.)_

* * *

_Reborn by Stone Sour_

I am just a secret now

I am just a vague illusion

I'm a lie you tell yourself

That you never truly did believe

I'm a whisper in the dark

I'm a victim and the killer

I am almost ready now

But you insist I don't exist

* * *

_**2 May 1998**_

_'Today is the day we die, Nagini.' _The Dark Lord said this with calm. He knew this needed to happen.

Everything had become to messy. The battle to loud and obvious. He needed quiet. He needed to fight behind the scenes, silently, without interference.

So, he would die.

Nagini took this knowledge on the chin, looking neither shocked or appalled.

'_You know what you must do?' _Voldemort hissed softly, petting the snake.

'_Yes, Tom.'_ The snake responded, and slithered out the door with no further prompting.

The Dark Lord had rallied his troops, and was preparing to go out with a bang. Death was the plan, but he wasn't going to go down without first causing some damage. Potter deserved that much at least.

* * *

Ginny Weasley raced down the corridor, trying desperately to find someone she knew, and it seemed everyone else in the castle had the same idea.

Panic.

This was it.

Do or die.

Her breath came in sharp painful gasps, her legs already protesting.

She needed to find her family. Her friends.

Her Harry.

She cursed herself for losing sight of them.

Her ankle twisted without warning and she stumbled, reaching out and grabbing someone's robes to slow her fall. Whoever she held seemed to dislike that idea and yanked out of her grasp, causing Ginny to fall harder than she had been expecting.

Her head bounced on the stone, taking the breath out of her. For a spilt second she anticipated the pain that would follow, trying to brace herself, because it would surely knock her clean out.

The pain that did come was enough to make the feet kicking her as they passed feel like playful jabs.

_Maybe I'll be trampled to death, _She thought, spitting on the floor and wondering if she was going to be sick.

People rushed past her in a blur, the screams they were letting lose flitting in and out of her head in bursts, along with a buzzing she thought might be coming solely from her head injury.

From the corner of her eye, she saw something that looked nothing like feet coming towards her, but her blurred vision wouldn't allow her to figure it out.

She reached for it, unsure. It was was moving, and it was big. Maybe somebody crawling? No, It wasn't quite that large.

It moved like something very familiar, and Ginny shook her head trying to decipher what was going on.

Whatever was coming towards her was avoiding the sea of feet rather well, and Ginny didn't think it had been stomped on.

It was within touching range now, and she could almost make it out.

With dawning horror, Ginny snatched her arm back a second to late.

Nagini drew back and struck fast, sinking her fangs right into Ginny's wrist.

The red head's screams blended with the rest, and no one paid any mind to the girl on the floor, all of them to busy saving themselves.

After a moment, Ginny struggled to her feet, and shook herself. What was she doing on the floor? She needed to find her Harry.

Today was the day, and he needed her.

He would always need her.

She moved with the masses towards the great hall, giant snake bite and head injury forgotten.

* * *

_**31 December 2003**_

"I think I need to push now," Ginny said, repositioning herself and looking at her mother for guidance.

"Not just yet dear, the Healer needs to make sure he's in the right position."

"Please hurry," Ginny breathed, looking down at her belly and cringing at the pressure she was only just starting to feel.

Her labour had been painless till this point, but it had been long. The pain reduction spell was reaching its limit, and Ginny was frightened.

"It's okay. Not long now," Her husband whispered from beside her, and she reached for his hand.

He was right. All this waiting, and finally, she would hold her son. Their son. Just as it should be. Her whole life had been building to this moment, and she was so blissfully happy and terrified that she felt she might scream.

Or maybe it was the building pain that would cause her to scream.

With little warning, the worst pain she had ever felt tore through her, and she nearly broke Harry's fingers.

"Something's not right!" Ginny gasped when the pain subsided.

"It's okay, Ginny. The pain spell has worn off." Molly soothed, but shot the healer a look, which she returned.

"Alright, Mrs. Potter, I'm going to ask you to push now. Little James is ready to meet you."

Ginny did as the midwife said, and bore down, gritting her teeth.

Another wave of agony shook Ginny to her core, and she howled.

"There's something wrong," The red head insisted once more, and her mother gave the midwife another look.

"Everything is just fine, I promise you. Just take a breath and try again, on three, okay?"

Ginny gave a short and shaky nod, and the midwife began counting.

On three, Ginny gave the biggest push she could muster, and once more screamed in agony.

Harry, by this point was white in the face, and had never been more unsure of himself.

"What if there is something wrong?" He asked out loud, worried.

He was given a quick and stern glare from Molly and the Midwife both. He glanced down at his wife, who was covered in sweat and panting.

She was pleading with him with her eyes, and he had no idea how to help her.

"Nothing is wrong, I assure you." The healer said after a moment.

"You just have a stubborn son." Molly laughed nervously, and Ginny whimpered.

Harry stroked his wife's hair in encouragement and tightened his grip on her hand, ignoring the pain that shot to his wrist.

"You can do this, Gin, you're strong enough." He whispered, and she grunted in response.

She closed her eyes and her grip went slack.

"Gin," Harry said, wiggling her arm.

"Hey, I know you're tired, but you have to do this,"

Molly took her daughters other hand and squeezed.

"I'm going to have to ask the both of you to leave," The healer said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, making no move to leave.

"You need to leave so I can do my job."

Molly moved first, pulling her son in law out of the room, much to his protest.

When Harry saw blood dripping from the end of the bed, all the colour drained from his face.

* * *

_**1 January 2003**_

"How is she?" Ron asked. Harry had been asked that question countless times that day, and he still didn't really know that answer himself.

"She lost a lot of blood," He said instead of 'I don't know.'

"What about James?" Ron asked after a moment.

"He's okay. He's quiet. Do you want to see him?"

"Yeah, mate. That'd be good."

Harry led Ron through the corridors into a private room, where only his son slept. Ginny was in her own room, being carefully monitored. Molly was sitting next to James, rolling the crib on wheels backward and forward.

"Is he sleeping?" Ron asked.

"No," Molly said, her tone short.

"He's probably just laying there, he hasn't cried yet." Harry explained, trying to keep his tone light. He couldn't help feeling there was something wrong with his son.

Molly insisted that it was normal, that the baby was just shocked and tired, and most babies were quiet in their first few days.

Harry wasn't assured, and still felt unnerved when he looking into his child's unblinking bright blue eyes.

"Why hasn't he cried?" Ron asked, peeking over the edge of the crib and looking like he was resisting the urge to poke the child within.

"I don't know," Harry said, just as Molly proclaimed;

"It's normal!"

Ron said nothing in return, sensing the sensitive topic.

"He's got your hair, mate."

James hair was slightly darker than Harry's own, and had a slight curl to it. Harry didn't think his son would inherit his messiness.

But he nodded anyway.

Harry didn't think James looked much like him at all.

"Yeah," He said after a moment.

The tiny infant with the shock of black hair still stared despondently up at the ceiling.


End file.
